#emotional support karen

[moeblob]

Huevember 22

Brent, the most expressive bard to ever bard.

[alrightsnaps]

normies: og golden trio will be so hard to replace though :( :( the actors cast as as harry, ron and hermione will have some big shoes to fill :(

me: idk what to tell you man, im more emotionally attached to 2012-2013 marauders era fancasts on tumblr than i ever was to those three

[shackld]

im home

[wheelercore]

Bringing back this post because I was thinking about "normal is just a raging psychopath", Henry describing conformity as a distraction from reality, and how the wheelers are the shows Normal Main Family (tm) that has yet to have done anything despite all the weird subtext *cough cough* references to the creel home before the creels moved in *cough cough*. Also thinking about how since Mike and Nancy began to find their own way and develop individuality, Karen, Holly, and Ted became the new Unit as of S3, with Nancy throwing out her little toy rabbit in the end of s4 while we see Holly with her new lite brite toy in the wheeler den constantly in the same season (and also sporting the pink-white color scheme + rose (?) design on her shirts). Anyways invest in rosegate right now for bountiful rewards in s5 (wheeler sweep!!!!).

Not to be overdramatic but the wheeler family being implied indirectly to be a "play"/performance" or a "lie" keeps me up at night

Like what did they mean by this shot

[spookyfloof]

A potential customer came in to my work with an Emotional Support Animal (note: NOT a service animal) which is not allowed, but since none of us really care as long as the dog is well-behaved, no one said anything. But this person was one of those really insufferable customers who anticipates being unhappy with the end result and thus being rude to whoever is trying to help them choose something despite not even making anything for them yet, so I had to wonder if the dog was really for our emotional support. If so, thanks I guess. Please don't bring your ESA to stores that don't allow them but it was a cute dog at least.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 3k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest. AO3

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned.  Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for,  not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg. 

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten. 

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied. 

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.” 

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine.  Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple. 

You felt completely stuck. 

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out.  You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this. 

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.” 

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.” 

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.” 

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again. 

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

[threadbearsweater]

one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan

When you find yourself taken in by a gang of outlaws, the last thing you expect is to grow sweet on one of them- and have the feelings reciprocated. Arthur Morgan doesn't have time for romantic nonsense, but a few memebers of the gang want to make sure that he gets to indulge in his obvious affection toward you. Tags: 3.9k words, an unlikely romance, meddling gang members (with the purest of intentions, one might suppose); female reader, alcohol use, smoking, emotional smut. A repost from a (regretfully) deactivated blog.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. ���Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grabbed at each other like it was the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you wanted more than what the other of you was able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

[bivht]

Astrology Observations

tw: ED

A lot of people in my life with chiron-saturn hard aspects have one parent emotionally (or physically) absent and the other emotionally manipulative. Also common is intergenerational trauma/childhood trauma. This individual has difficulties relying on people for support. It sucks bc it’s quite a common aspect. I’d estimate roughly 25% of my class has this

Chiron-saturn hard aspects also make me think of someone with a wounded sense of restriction and discipline. In extreme cases it can lead to mental health conditions like eating disorders I.e. Karen carpenter with Saturn square Chiron. Eugenia cooney with Saturn opposite Chiron. Tbh this is more of an assumption, both individuals have mars square Saturn which could also be a factor

mars square Saturn is where the ability to feel motivated, take action, and progress is restricted by Saturn. And the square aspect makes it sooo difficult to overcome, it’s locked in place like a safe. Their sense of discipline is also kinda f’ed up. Potential to be self-punishers.

pisces moon with hard aspects to pluto can have emotionally manipulative mother in which the child believes their mother is their best friend but it’s really just an unstable relationship with lack of any emotional boundaries :/

moon-pluto/moon-saturn hard aspects is having at least one traumatic event relating to their mother by age 16

Venus-Chiron/chiron in the 7h can have a fear of people leaving them for someone better

Melpomene (18) conjunct pluto is so frickin’ powerful when they delve into tragic art such as sad songs/dance/writing. Melpomene is the muse of tragedy. Even if it’s a really happy or cute person, they’ll catch you off guard with their suitability in tragic roles

This is obvious but fatme (866) can have weight struggles

pisces moon is asking your mum for privacy and she says “I’m your MOTHER, I’ve seen you naked since you were a baby!”

virgo mercury is the definition of “oh no… anyway”

[xtra7s]

Can I request Regina x Reader where she catches Regina cheating (like in the movie) and reader takes her back angst to fluff please

𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭

Pairing: Regina George x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Regina gets caught cheating on her girlfriend.

Content: angst, cheating, stuff idk help

Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: not proofread, the gif is from my own video

masterlist

Regina George, the queen bee of North Shore High, ruled with an iron fist and a cunning smile. She was a force to be reckoned with, her every move calculated and precise. Just like her perfectly styled hair and impeccable wardrobe, her dominance over the student body was effortless. They were all mere pawns in her game, following her lead blindly as she basked in their adoration like a true monarch. To them, she was untouchable, untamable, and utterly irresistible.

And then there was her girlfriend. Y/N YL/N was a star on the girls' basketball team, effortlessly gliding across the court with precision and grace. Unlike Regina, who exuded confidence and charisma, Y/N was quieter and more reserved, but no less powerful in her own right. Her kindhearted nature radiated from her every action, always quick to support and uplift those around her. In contrast to Regina's intense drive for success, Y/N had a calming presence that seemed to melt away any stress or tension. Together, they were the perfect balance of fire and water, challenging and complementing each other in all the best ways.

Breathless from running, Y/N burst into the school courtyard where Karen and Gretchen were lounging on a bench. "Hey, have you guys seen Regina?" she huffed out, her words punctuated by gasps for air. Her eyes frantically scanned the area as she explained, "I have a bus to catch and I wanted to say goodbye to her." Gretchen's face looked like it was about to explode while Karen simply tilted her head in curious confusion. Y/N's heart raced as she waited for their response, knowing that time was ticking away before she had to leave.

"Pretty sure she was heading towards the janit-" Karen began to explain, but her voice was cut short as Gretchen abruptly slapped her in the stomach, halting her explanation. Confusion and annoyance knitted across Karen's features as she stumbled back a step. "But I saw her heading towards-" she started to protest, but Gretchen's urgent grip on her hand pulled her away from Y/N before she could finish. The sound of their hurried footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, echoing off the cold walls and sending shivers down Y/N's spine.

A knot of unease tightened in Y/N's stomach as she hurried down the hallway toward the janitor's closet. Her footsteps echoed against the tiled floor, each step a reminder of her mounting anxiety. She reached the door and knocked, the sound echoing through the empty corridor. "Just a sec!" came Regina's voice from inside. Y/N took a deep breath before yanking open the door, revealing Regina and Shane Oman hastily throwing on clothes. The scent of sweat and perfume hung heavy in the air, mixing with the musty smell of cleaning supplies that filled the cramped closet. Y/N's jaw clenched as she realized what was happening, her bad feeling becoming a sickening certainty.

With pained expression etched across her features, Y/N's voice trembled as she spoke. "Just wanted to say bye before my away game. We're done." Her tears fell freely as she turned away and hurried down the hallway, the sound of her choking back sobs echoed off the walls. The pain in her heart was palpable, like a weight dragging her down with each step she took.

She returned to the bus, clumsily wiping away her tears with strokes of her sleeve. She made her way down the narrow aisle and took a seat at the back. The warmth of the sun seeping through the windows provided a comforting embrace as she tried to compose herself. Her gaze fell upon the passing scenery, but her thoughts were consumed by the emotions that had overtaken her just moments ago.

____

The team rallied and emerged victorious in their away game, fueled by Y/N's unexplainable surge of anger and aggression on the field. Despite feeling sluggish and exhausted for the remainder of the trip, she channeled her energy into dominating the game. While her teammates celebrated their win, Y/N retreated to rest and recharge, opting for sleep instead of socializing. The weight of her uncharacteristic outburst lingered, but she couldn't deny the satisfaction of helping lead her team to victory.

With a heavy sigh, she stepped off the bus and pulled her headphones down from her head. She took a moment to steel herself before facing the looming school building in front of her, the one place she never wanted to return to. As she grabbed her duffle bag from under the bus, she turned towards the parking lot and caught sight of Regina leaning against her Jeep, her striking features drawn into a worried frown as she scanned the crowd of students getting off the bus. The sun beat down on them, casting a golden glow over the scene. Y/N noticed the way Regina's blonde hair glinted in the light, like spun gold. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of her former girlfriend, but then she remembered why she had left this place and pushed those thoughts away.

With determination in her stride, Y/N headed towards Regina, ready to face whatever came next.

"What the hell are you doing here, Regina?" Y/N's voice cut through the tense air like a blade, her words dripping with ice as she faced Regina.

Her sharp gaze raked over Regina's body, noting the uncharacteristically subdued attire of the usually showy girl. The tension between them was palpable, crackling like electricity in the air.

The gentle lilt of Regina's voice pierces the tense silence between them. She wears a small, sad smile on her face as she leans against the car door, holding it open for Y/N. "I'm here to drive you home," she says softly, coaxing Y/N to let her in. "Come on, just get in Y/N." She stands with her arms crossed, but Y/N stands with her arms crossed, refusing to budge. Her eyes narrow and she scoffs, turning sharply and striding away from Regina's outstretched hand. The moon casts a cool glow over the scene, highlighting the tension and heartache hanging heavy in the air.

Regina catches up to Y/N, quickly grabbing her hand and tugging her back towards her. "Please just stop being dramatic. Can we please talk? I'm pretty sure I owe you a really embarrassing apology that totally won't make me die inside." Regina speaks softly, tilting her head at Y/N while she stares at the ground. Y/N cracks a small smile, turning it into a straight face as she walks towards Regina's Jeep, sliding into the passenger seat and dropping her bag on the ground of the car.

As soon as Y/N stepped into the passenger seat of Regina's Jeep, she slammed the door shut with a loud thud. She knew that Regina hated when she did that, but it was a small act of rebellion against the girl who had caused her so much pain.

Regina let out a sigh as she climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot. The two girls sat in tense silence for a few minutes before Regina finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know I messed up and hurt you. I regret it every day."

Y/N remained silent for a moment, trying to hold back tears that threatened to spill over at Regina's words. She couldn't deny that she still had feelings for her ex-girlfriend, but she was also angry at her for breaking her heart.

"Why did you do it?" Y/N asked, her voice cracking with emotion.

Regina took a deep breath before answering. "I don't have an excuse, Y/N. I was selfish and so fucking stupid."

"So you just threw our relationship away like it meant nothing?" Y/N spat out bitterly.

"No," Regina said firmly, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "It meant everything to me. But my insecurities got in the way and I made a huge mistake."

Y/N sighed heavily, feeling conflicted about what to do or say next. Part of her wanted to forgive Regina and give their relationship another chance, but another part of her was afraid of getting hurt again.

"I don't know if I can ever trust you again," Y/N admitted quietly.

"I understand," Regina replied sadly. "But please give me another chance to make things right. I promise to be honest with you from now on."

Regina reaches across the center console, holding her hand out for Y/N to take while she keeps her focus on driving, ignoring the tears escaping her eyes. Y/N hesitantly takes it, her hand fitting perfectly in Regina's. Regina runs her thumb over the top of Y/N's hand, parking in the driveway of her own house.

Regina parked in the driveway of her house, still holding onto Y/N's hand tightly. They both sat in the car for a few moments, neither one speaking as they collected their thoughts.

Finally, Y/N turned to look at Regina, her eyes red from tears that she had been holding back. "I want to forgive you," she said softly. "But it's going to take time."

"I understand," Regina replied, squeezing Y/N's hand gently. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

Y/N nodded and slowly let go of Regina's hand, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for her bag on the floor of the car. As she opened the door to get out, Regina quickly got out as well and walked around to open Y/N's door for her.

"Thank you," Y/N said quietly as she got out of the car. Regina nodded and they both walked towards the front door of the house. "Do you want something to drink?" Regina asked as they entered the living room. "Water is fine," Y/N replied, taking a seat on the couch.

Regina went into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of water. She handed one to Y/N before taking a seat next to her on the couch.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Regina spoke up again. "I know I hurt you deeply and I can't take back what I did."

Y/N sighed and took a sip of her water. "I just don't understand why you did it."

"I was scared," Regina admitted quietly. "Scared that I wasn't good enough for you or that you would realize that and leave me, I guess just I made it happen quicker."

Y/N nodded, looking up at Regina. "Can I hug you..?" Regina asked softly, Y/N nodding in return and melting into the touch of Regina.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, just holding onto each other. "I'm so sorry," Regina whispered into Y/N's hair. "I know sorry doesn't make it right, but I never want to lose you."

Y/N pulled away slightly to look at Regina. "I want to forgive you," she said with tears in her eyes. "But I don't know if I can trust you again."

Regina nodded, understanding Y/N's hesitation. "I will do whatever it takes to earn back your trust." She wiped away a tear from Y/N's cheek before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Y/N closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, feeling a familiar warmth spread through her body at the simple gesture.

"Let's take things slow," Y/N said, opening her eyes to look at Regina once again. "I need time to process everything."

Regina nodded again and took a deep breath. "Of course," she said, giving Y/N a small smile.

After a while, Y/N and Regina both started to feel more at ease with each other. They talked about their days, catching up on the things they had missed in each other's lives. Y/N found herself starting to relax on Regina's lap, feeling comforted by her presence.

"Do you want to watch something?" Regina asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Y/N nodded and Regina reached over to grab the remote. She turned on the TV and scrolled through the channels until she found a show they both enjoyed. As they settled into watching the show, Y/N couldn't help but lean into Regina's embrace even more.

Regina placed a gentle kiss on Y/N's temple as she wrapped her arms around her waist. "I missed this," she whispered.

Y/N felt her heart flutter at Regina's words and couldn't help but snuggle closer to her. "Me too," she replied, feeling tears prick in her eyes.

They stayed like that for the rest of the evening, watching their show and enjoying each other's company. It wasn't until it was almost midnight that Y/N realized how late it was getting.

"I should probably head home," Y/N said reluctantly, not wanting to leave Regina's side.

Regina nodded understandingly but didn't move from her spot on the couch. "Can I see you again soon?" she asked softly.

Y/N smiled and leaned in for a kiss. It was short but filled with all the love and longing they both felt for each other. "Of course," she whispered against Regina's lips before pulling away slightly.

"I'll walk you out," Regina said as they got up from the couch.

As they walked towards the door, Y/N turned around to face Regina one last time before leaving. "Thank you for tonight," she said sincerely.

"Thank you for giving me another chance," Regina replied with a smile before they shared one last kiss.

[withthewerewolves]

I just saw a post about how the writers are building up to Buck getting shot and Eddie saving him, and while I would eat that storyline up with a spoon, may I point out that there is one character who has not yet had a near death experience/major injury?

Henrietta Wilson.

Chim had the rebar in season 1, got stabbed in season 2, given repeated heart attacks in season 5, and impaled in season 6.

Buck choked in season 1, had his leg crushed in season 2, his embolism in season 3, and the lightning strike in season 6.

Eddie had the well in season 3 and got shot in season 4.

Bobby had a heart attack in season 7.

Athena was attacked in season 3.

Karen nearly died in season 6.

Maddie got stabbed and hit in season 2.

Josh was attacked in season 3? i think?

Even Harry, May, and Denny have had their turns (arguably Chris too during the tsunami).

(I may be forgetting some)

But Hen, despite getting the brunt of the emotional damage the last few seasons, has only had the concussion in the season 6 finale (where everybody got hurt, but I've only listed Chim's impalement because the other injuries looked bad but not serious).

Anyway, I love Hen, so this is my plea for her to get badly injured and get her turn in a hospital bed while everyone gathers around to save/support her. Maybe Chim (usually not one to freak out in medical situations) loses his head (because it's HEN) and Eddie has to use his medic skills to save her. Then they can both have angst too (Chim: "I wasn't there when she needed me!") (Eddie: "what if someone with more training could have done a better job?")

[elihermit]

let’s ruin the friendship

— part one

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: 118 throws a party for their station. You started working there 3 months ago and already feel like a part of the family. Buck caught feelings for you, but still need to confess them. How will the weekend end?

word count: 1,5k

author’s note: i’m actually obsessed with this fic🧘🏻‍♀️ hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it

p.s. i see all your requests, i’m in the process of writing them🫧

Malibu. You're sitting by the ocean and looking at the sky. You take a deep breath and feel your lungs fill with sea air, this real sea smell. The wind blows your hair, the warm sand tickles your toes and your head is free of thoughts.

118 decided to make a party for your station and you rented a house in Malibu on the Pacific Ocean. Three days of rest and fun with friends, what could be better?

And you needed it. You've been working at 118 for three months now and it's really a dream job. But because you're still new to this: it's hard, demanding and emotional at times. So getting out of this for a couple of days sounded very tempting.

The whole 118 team received you very warmly. Bobby is the best captain you could ask for. He literally became your second dad, mentor and wise friend. He taught you to take any difficulty as a valuable lesson that will lead you to a better version of yourself. Hen, Chimney and Eddie have become a resource of light. You never thought that colleagues at work could become family, but they showed you this. They are always happy to see you in their homes, put a smile on your face every shift and support you when something gets too much.

And Buck. You chuckled and admitted that you fell for him. You're not usually the type to get attached to people quickly. Honestly, you don't even know if you ever really loved. And it was Evan who made you feel things you'd never felt before. Butterflies in your stomach, counting the minutes before your shift starts to see him, “accidental” touches, stolen glances and a blush on your cheeks when he compliments you.

You looked up at the sky once more, where the stars were shining. Your dress was covered in sand, but you didn't care, because it was those moments that gave you a sense of carelessness. You were the very first to arrive at the house that you all rented and realized that this was a great opportunity to be alone with yourself. It was just you and the ocean.

“You're early as always.” — of course it was Buck. You chuckled to yourself and weren't even surprised that it was him. It's like he always appears when you think about him.

“Yeah, I didn't really calculate the time right and got here without traffic jams.”

You felt Buck sit down next to you on the sand and you both looked out into the boundless ocean.

“Aren't you afraid to get your pants dirty?”

“I wouldn't have become a firefighter if I was afraid of that. Plus, I'm willing to get my pants dirty if it means sitting in peace and quiet next to you.”

The next day went better than you imagined. You were all swimming, barbecuing, making cocktails, chatting and laughing a lot. Adults, but behaved like children, and this is exactly what everyone needed — to forget about adult responsibilities for a while and give themselves up to impulsive desires.

The day was nearing sunset and you split up. Men were playing volleyball, women were sitting by the pool with glasses of wine.

“If such a weekend becomes a tradition at your station, then I will have to change my place of work.” — Karen said and sipped her wine.

“Oh honey, we don’t have to. We are the wives of firefighters, we will always have the privilege for such parties.” — Athena said, doing a little dance.

Everyone laughed and agreed with this statement. You adored the women around you: strong, beautiful, and knowing how to have fun, even working such hard jobs.

“So (Y/N), any plans on making this official?” — Hen raised her eyebrows, pointing at you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on girl, we all see how you and Buck literally devour each other with eyes.”

“We’re just friends.”

You close your eyes, pull on your sunglasses and lie down on a beach chair. You do everything so that no one sees how your cheeks started to turn red.

“Yeah, I'm sure that friends dance in each other's arms, go to places for couples in the evenings and make local jokes that no one else understands.” — Maddie came back to the pool and put another cocktail in front of you. “It’s from Buck by the way, he said he made it just how you like it.” — she highlighted the last words and looked at you meaningfully before laughing.

“Okay you all, I don't recall using the services of a matchmaker, so I’m going to swim.” — you said, standing from your beach chair. “Anyone wants to go with me?”

“Hell yeah.”

You hear Buck's voice behind you and turn to him.

“Where did you come from?”

“I was on my way to grab some water, but swimming sounds more tempting.”

You took a towel and you went for a swim together.

“Okay, guys, I'm taking bets on whether they kiss now or not.” — Hen had a feeling that after this swim there will be one more couple on their station.

You and Evan came to the ocean and stopped at the shore. You have a feeling of deja vu, because exactly 24 hours ago you were sitting in the same place. The sun was almost below the horizon, it was getting darker and you liked it, there was always something magical about swimming at night.

“I would very much appreciate it if you stayed by my side, because rescuing you wasn’t on my bucket list today.”

“Then you’ll have to catch me, Buckley.”

You didn't wait a second and ran into the water. The warm water caressed your body, the sounds of the waves stupefied your head, the lowering sun left tempting reflections on your body.

You began to swim slowly and enjoy how the water relaxes your muscles and the taste of salt envelops your lips. In a second you were in strong hands.

“Got ya.” — Buck's warm breath was on your ear and reflexively you wrapped your legs around his torso.

“I don't think you gave me a chance to break away from you.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to.”

“How is it fair then?”

“It’s not, but it’s also unfair how you try to slide away from me every time.”

You looked into Evan's eyes and froze. You never tried to run away from him, you just didn't know if your feelings were mutual. And confessing your feelings is like going through fire for you, even though you do it almost every day. And it's still dangerous and scary.

His lips were two centimeters from yours and you fought with every part of your body not to succumb to temptation.

“I was just waiting for you to stop me from running away.”

“Let’s ruin the friendship.”

And he kissed you. A thousand fireworks exploded in your chest and your heart started pounding faster. You ran your hands through his hair, and he pulled you closer to him. You have to say that there was nothing innocent about that kiss. But it wasn't lust either. It was sensual, intimate, mixed with a long desire to be with each other.

You parted your lips and let his tongue enter inside, dancing with your tongue in unison. Buck put his hands on your hips and squeezed them, a soft moan escaped from your lips. Desire and need have awakened in the bottom of your stomach.

“I don’t think we need to give such a performance to our friends.” — even though you didn’t care right now, you knew it would be quite embarrassing after.

“You’re probably right, but I've been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

“You’re definitely a keeper.”

“I can’t keep denying every minute I think of you. I need to call you mine.”

“Claim me yours.”

And just like that, he kissed you again. This time gently and with all the love he had. You could both feel the invisible strings that intertwine your hearts and lives.

The feelings that flared up no longer frightened, but forced him to look into the future without doubt. Evan has been burned in a relationship so many times, but now he sees clearly — life without you is a thousand times more destructive.

You've been imagining events for so long that could lead to the beginning of your relationship, and none of them were the way you're experiencing now. You're with Buck in the ocean, your bodies are pressed against each other and you can't break the kiss because you can't get enough.

“Fuck, you’re all I ever dreamed of.” — Buck broke the kiss and said it into your lips.

You were walking back to the house and holding hands. What's the point of hiding that you're a couple now if everyone's been waiting for this?

You and Buck walked past the pool giggling and went into the house to change your clothes and most likely it won't end there.

“Okay, ladies, each of you now owns me 10 dollars.” — sipping from her glass, Hen knew she would win this bet.

Let me know if you want part 2 🫧

[itsabouttimex2]

Hahahah! The little healer stall sign says

itty-bitty-healing-comittee!

Here to heal you today!

Little Healer Headcanons

Sun Wukong, MK, and Mei

(That is so damn cute to think about- lil’ Y/N all dressed up like a mage/nurse behind their stall, but only their eyes peek over the rim cause they’re short af)

The Great Sage personally “finances” your little (probably unlicensed and illegal) stand by scaring off any cop or Karen who wanders by to try and cause trouble. He’s your number-one supporter at any given time, always on standby with a snack or hug to cheer you up.

It’s not uncommon for a client to lean over the side of your stall for a better look at what’s inside, just to find Ol’ Sun Wukong lounging on the ground.

When the king isn’t busy scaring people away by “accidentally” getting into their faces and pushing them around with a strength beyond their comprehension, he’s babying you.

Trying to, at least.

You work so very hard at your little repurposed stall, a handmade banner strung across the top, red crosses and flowers painted on the sides. It’s clear to Wukong that all you really want to do is help as many people as you can, however you can…

“But you can’t do that if you don’t take care of yourself,” he’ll remind, using legitimately good advice as an excuse to drag you off for mid-day snuggles.

The Great Sage will gently force you to practice basic self-care, even if it means dragging you back to Flower Fruit Mountain on his cloud for a hot bath and a cozy nap. Expect him to extend your “vacation” afterwards by asking for help with a few of his monkeys.

He is so, so good to you, in the worst way. A part of him knows that it’s wrong to load you with junk food and soda, but when he sees you all worn out and shaky on that wooden stool you have to stand on to see over the stall, his self-control fizzes out and the Great Sage is bolting off to “buy” you a horribly unhealthy combo meal from the nearest fast food place. (He steals it.)

And when you’re all tuckered out from a day of hard work and a belly full of sugar and grease and deep-fried fat…

Sun Wukong scoops you into his arms and starts the journey home, right back to where you belong.

Oh, how this kid loves you. MK is always lounging around the corner of your wooden street stall whenever he gets the chance, kicking back with a copy of some Monkey King sponsored magazine or playing Monkey Mech on his phone- it’s a great chance to just lounge around and genuinely relax.

And sure, there’s some concern from his friends and family about how MK seems to suddenly be prioritizing protecting a blatantly illegal street stall over his job and work as a hero…

“Saving the city can wait! Y/N needs me to find a rare herb so they can make an antidote!”

Yeah, you definitely come very close to first in this hero’s heart. He doesn’t outright abandon the city, nor will he put you miles above his desire to protect it- but you are extremely close to being the most important thing in his world.

Just… a cute itty-bitty “sibling” that MK can’t help but to cherish. At first.

As the seasons go by, though… you start being a strange sort of living coping mechanism. An emotional crutch. As his anguish compounds and stacks higher by the day, MK starts using you as an impromptu and unlicensed therapist, trauma-dumping whenever you aren’t tending to a customer.

Being too young and naive to shut down these conversations, you can do little more than fidget and squirm while you try to soothe the worst of MK’s sorrows.

And he misinterprets these awkward consolations as genuine care on your part, which leads him to repeat the process again and again and again.

As MK slowly builds himself up, he in turn breaks you down- entirely on accident.

If he knew that the constant barrage of fears and worries were grinding you down, MK would absolutely turn the valve and shut himself off. He’d go right back to closing himself off and shutting up about everything that’s torn a hole in his heart.

But he doesn’t. You don’t know how to tell him.

So on and on he goes with these traumas, head in your lap during a slow day, right when you finally crack and start to cry.

Good thing you’ve got a hero on standby to cuddle your tears away.

Each and every day starts with Mei prepping you for a long day at your “job”, and damn if the dragon girl can’t dote.

Special attention is given to your hair, little jeweled pins clipped into place just to give your outfit a bit of (expensive) sparkle- the motorcyclist believes with all her heart that you’ve earned it.

All your clothes are custom-made in whites and greens so that the two of you match, displaying to everyone around the bond she shares with you. Since your hands are so important to the work you do, Mei avoids giving you rings (and loose necklaces, just in case they get caught) and instead settles for thick golden bracelets (with trackers hidden inside) as a “gift”.

She tends to see you as more frail than you really are, so motorcycle rides are uncommon and uncharacteristically slow because Mei doesn’t want to rattle you.

Expect her to loudly and proudly proclaim “This is my little sibling!” whenever she gets the chance- and Mei will actively try to make this heartfelt delusion of hers a reality.

If you’re got a good home life, Mei imposes herself as an “honorary big sister” to justify all the time spent with you, painting herself as the sort of person who genuinely just wants the best for her community by looking out for everyone’s favorite healer.

But the moment she finds something solid against your guardians, this dragon girl blasts it all across social media to justify dragging you away from them- even if puts you in an awful and precarious headspace.

If you’re an orphan or stuck in a very bad home situation, Mei might just get her parents to adopt you- having a hardworking and adorable mage is not only good for the family’s reputation, but offers them a chance to expand their reach by having you lend a hand to influential and powerful individuals in their time of need.

And sometimes it feels almost like you’re being used, but they bring you back home after the work is done and allow you to rest and recuperate in front of their fireplace with a warm blanket (her mother wraps you up extra tight and kisses your forehead) and a cup of tea (her father pushes it into your hands and smoothes out your hair) before they dim the lights and bolt their lavish doors.

Really, you’re just part of the family now.

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Four]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: This one switches POVs at the end to Matt's. Hopefully you like the update because I quite enjoyed writing Foggy in this one. You'll see why... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @thychuvaluswife @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @lilthbunny @that-girl-named-alex

Chewing another bite of your burger, you were barely focused on the conversation occurring at the table amongst your friends. You had been starving ever since the four of you had met at the restaurant, the smell of grilled food causing you to salivate the moment you’d stepped through the doors. So once the waiter had placed your burger on the table in front of you–the one thing you’d been craving nonstop all day–you’d tuned everything else around you out. Marci had shot you a curious look when you'd first dug into your food, but you’d chosen to ignore that, too.

Initially you’d set up this lunch date with your friends so that you could break the news to Foggy and Marci that you were pregnant. For the past two weeks now Karen had helped you keep your secret, but now that you were eight weeks along and had seen that everything was progressing well at your first ultrasound, you thought it was time to clue the pair of them into things, too. You’d been appreciative of Karen’s support lately, but truthfully being even less alone in everything right now sounded even more comforting and appealing.

As for Matt, you’d admittedly been doing your best to avoid him. He still had no idea about the pregnancy, and truthfully you weren’t quite ready to tell him. Over the past couple of weeks he had been calling you and leaving the occasional voicemail, but you’d ignored him every single time. And since you hadn’t had the heart to hear his voice or whatever it was he had to say for himself, you currently had twelve unopened voicemails from him. 

You knew you needed to tell Matt the news. Every day you told yourself that, and every day it was a constant battle with yourself between ripping the bandaid off and showing up at his apartment to tell him or not. But then you always became emotional at the thought of just seeing Matt again, and you ultimately always came to the conclusion that you just weren’t quite ready to face him, not with this. You also knew that it wasn’t the sort of news you thought you should tell him in a phone call, either. So for now, Matt had no idea you were pregnant with his child. 

“Whoa, slow down there,” Foggy teased from across the table. “Your burger is not going to get up and run away from you if you set it down to breathe for a moment.”

It took a second for you to realize that he was even talking to you, having been too focused on eating your food. Your gaze slowly slid up from your plate, noticing three sets of eyes on you. Thankfully Karen’s expression was more amused and knowing than confused and judging like Foggy and Marci’s across from you. Swallowing down your bite of burger, you lowered it back down towards your plate, sitting up straighter in the booth. You sent the pair of them across from you a sheepish smile, watching as Marci’s hand rose up towards her mouth. 

"You've uh…got some ketchup," she said, gesturing beside her lip. “Right here.”

Reaching over, you grabbed your napkin and dabbed at the glob of ketchup on your face. You could still feel all three sets of eyes on you as you wiped off the ketchup, and one look up from your plate confirmed your suspicions. Eyes darting over towards Karen beside you, you saw her send you a slight nod and a soft, encouraging smile. With a sigh you wiped your hands off on your napkin next, figuring now was as good a time as any during this lunch to break the news to Foggy and Marci. And at least the irritating hunger-nausea that seemed to accompany early pregnancy was temporarily abated with how fast you’d eaten half of your burger.

“Sorry,” you muttered. 

Foggy waved a dismissive hand, shrugging his shoulders as he sent you a smile. “Not a big deal, though I thought you had asked us here because you wanted to talk to us about something.”

“There uh, there actually was a reason,” you agreed, nodding slowly.

Your eyes slid back and forth between Foggy and Marci, your fingers fidgeting nervously with the napkin still in your hands. The pair of them curiously focused on you from across the table, lowering their utensils and giving you their full attention. Biting the inside of your cheek, you contemplated how you were supposed to tell them something so big. How did you lead up to telling someone that you're pregnant? So when you inevitably couldn’t think of anything to gradually broach the topic with, you opted for just spitting it right out.

“I’m pregnant,” you announced. “Just over eight weeks now.”

Marci’s eyes instantly doubled in size at the news, her lips parting in surprise as she gaped at you. Foggy’s jaw literally dropped, his entire body going rigid in the booth. From beside you, you felt Karen place a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving it a brief comforting squeeze.

“Holy shit,” Foggy breathed out.

You shot him another sheepish smile, still fidgeting with the napkin. “Yeah,” you muttered, “that’s about what I said initially, too.”

“So–so is it…Matt’s?” Marci asked slowly, her brows drawing together.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Foggy said, frantically waving his hands in front of himself. “You’re pregnant? Like right now? With Matt’s baby?”

“Yes,” you repeated.

Marci began to run a hand through her blonde hair, her lips pursing together as that furrow between her brows grew while she tried to process the information. Foggy was still sitting in the booth beside her and staring at you in utter disbelief. After a minute of that incredulous expression on his face, you quirked a brow at him, no longer able to stand the silence that had fallen over the table.

“What?” you asked him.

“It’s just–” he began, grimacing before shaking his head. “Matt doesn’t know, does he? That you’re pregnant? Because you two aren’t together but you’re carrying his child. And I don’t think he’d be acting the way he is if he knew.”

“Yeah, well,” you began bitterly, picking up your glass of water and bringing it to your lips for a drink, “that’s Matt’s fault.”

“So you’re just not going to tell him?” Foggy asked in shock, his brows shooting up onto his forehead. “You can’t possibly do that to him. You wouldn’t .”

“I am going to tell him,” you said, setting your glass back onto the table. “I tried to tell him that I was pregnant the night we broke up. But he wouldn’t stay to talk to me. Said he needed to go deal with the Russians. Again . He’s the one who told me to leave that night. Told me I could tell him whatever it was I needed to when he got back or that I could go." You winced, eyes dropping down towards your half-finished burger. “He left me alone that night–left us alone. So forgive me for not rushing to tell him the news a second time,” you snapped. “Because I don’t think I should have come last that night on his list of priorities, so right now he's not exactly at the top of mine.” 

“If he knew the truth there’s no way Matt would’ve walked out on you like that,” Foggy told you earnestly. “There’s no way. He’d have stayed, I promise you that.”

Your eyes flew up from the table, landing back on Foggy across from you. There was an almost pleading look on his face as he sat there across from you. But as you opened your mouth to respond, you could feel that familiar rush of anger unfurling inside of you as you remembered that night.

“I practically begged him to stay and talk to me, Fog,” you growled, one arm possessively wrapping around your abdomen. “I was crying and begging him to stay and he left . That’s on Matt, not me.”

“I absolutely agree with you on that,” Foggy replied quickly, nodding his head. “He briefly told me what happened that night and I agree that he fucked up. Big time. But knowing what I do now? I know Matt needs to know the truth. He needs to make things right–”

“There’s no way Matt could make any of this right, Fog,” you cut him off. “And even if there somehow was, do you really think Matt would want to raise a child? With what he does? How obsessive he gets over things? The way he doesn’t even take care of himself?” You shook your head quickly, one arm still possessively wrapped around your belly. “No, that man couldn’t possibly care about being a father. All he cares about is Daredevil and Hell’s Kitchen. He can have a relationship with his child, I won’t stop that, but I’m the one who’ll ultimately be raising this baby.”

“You don’t know that,” Foggy countered, shaking his head as he leaned across the table towards you with that pleading expression only growing more desperate on his face. “You don’t know Matt wouldn’t want to be a father.”

“Actually, Fog,” Marci said, cutting him off, “I think I’m with her on this. From the things I’ve heard about Matt’s hobby from you and Karen, I was honestly shocked he had managed to successfully keep a relationship for as long as he has. But being a father? That’s an even bigger responsibility. I mean, he already has difficulty prioritizing the firm with you and Karen half the time. You really think a baby would be any different?”

“Yes!” Foggy exclaimed, his eyes darting between you and Marci. “Matt has his flaws, sure, I know that. I do,” he continued fervently. “But I know Matt. He wouldn’t walk away from his own child. He wouldn’t .” 

"I'm with Fog on this," Karen said, catching everyone's attention. "I think Matt wouldn't be acting this way if he knew."

Marci’s eyes narrowed at Karen, her head slowly tilting to the side. "You already knew she was pregnant, didn't you?" she asked. "Because you don't seem very surprised right now."

"She showed up at my place shortly after the breakup and I told her," you explained. "I just didn't want to be alone in all of this. I had been waiting until after my ultrasound to break the news to you and Foggy next. I just–just wanted you all to know so I wasn't entirely alone."

Marci’s hand slid across the table towards yours, grabbing onto it. She sent you a warm smile that swiftly quieted the anger you felt towards Matt that had been burning inside of you for weeks now.

"You're not alone in this," she assured you, squeezing your hand. "You've always got us."

"Yeah," Foggy agreed, his face softening when you glanced at him beside her. "Whatever happens with Matt in all of this, you know we're always here for you. Through anything."

Tears began to fill your eyes, your lips trembling at the show of support. Truly you were grateful that everything with Matt had led you to at least meeting all three of them.

"Thanks guys," you whispered. "You don't know what that means to me."

Shutting your apartment door behind yourself, you turned and leaned your back up against it, slipping your aching feet out of your shoes with a deep groan. Head rolling back against the door as you stretched your toes, your eyes took in the sight of your empty apartment. Everything was neat and tidy except for the couch in your living room, which was often where you found yourself cocooned in a soft blanket whenever you were home lately, binging your shows and trying to ignore the hollow, lingering pain in your chest from your persistent heartache. 

The pillows on your couch were a mess, a couple of them stacked together and resting against an armrest that you'd long since claimed as your usual spot. The extra height of them stacked helped with your nasal congestion–another unfortunate perk of pregnancy you’d recently come to learn about. Your plush blanket was still strewn across the cushions looking exactly the same as when you'd crawled out from underneath it earlier to get ready for your lunch date with your friends. Truthfully your couch still looked about as inviting as anything could to you lately.

With a sigh, your right hand absently landed on your belly. Any other normal Sunday in the past you'd have had plans with Matt right now. Grabbing groceries together or maybe getting coffee. Planning out dinner or listening to audiobooks on the couch. Having mind-blowing sex in the bedroom that left you blissed out and pleasantly exhausted afterwards, the pair of you remaining naked in bed just talking and losing track of time for half the day.

But not today. 

Though admittedly it had been awhile since Matt had been able to give you his undivided attention on a weekend. Usually he had been trying to catch up on work or sleep before he went back out again as Daredevil at night. But that didn't stop the sting of his absence that you’d felt over the past few weeks since the breakup.

Eyes dropping down to your abdomen, a faint smile curled your lips upwards. You weren't truly alone though. Not fully. And at least Foggy and Marci knew the truth about your pregnancy now and were completely supportive of you. That's what mattered at the moment. 

"Alright my little devil," you whispered to your small bump affectionately, "what's on the agenda for tonight?"

Lifting the hem of your shirt up with your other hand, you stretched out the spandex band of your maternity pants with a frown. They had become far more comfortable than your actual jeans this past week, especially once those had been near impossible for you to actually button closed. You’d recently bought a few basic maternity items, but the maternity jeans made you feel considerably less attractive with that stretchy band reaching up to almost the bottom of your bra. 

"Should I get into something significantly more comfortable than these maternity pants?" you asked your bump. "Maybe those cozy, stretchy leggings I just bought? Then you and I could curl up and take a nap on the couch before figuring out dinner?"

Pushing off of the door, you bent down with another groan as you picked up your shoes and placed them in the nearby closet. Afterwards, you shuffled your tired feet through your living room and straight towards your bathroom just through the short hallway.

"But first I'm going to pee for the millionth time today," you muttered under your breath. "Something I feel like I'm doing all the time now."

You used the bathroom quickly before heading to your room, taking your time to switch your clothes into something more comfortable. It wasn’t like you were planning to go out anywhere for the rest of your Sunday night. It didn’t matter that you were wearing a massive oversized shirt and a pair of maternity leggings that you’d rolled the waistband down to just below your bump. No one was going to see you, anyway.

“Alright,” you murmured as you left your bedroom, shuffling your way back down the hallway towards your living room. “Let’s nap and figure out dinner afterwards. Seems like you’re feeling pasta tonight, so I guess that’s the plan.”

Settling onto the couch, you pulled your feet up onto the cushions and underneath your blanket before you laid down. Almost instantly you could feel your sinuses closing up and you tried to ignore your irritation at it. At least it wasn’t the nausea, because that admittedly had been the worst part of everything so far. Getting comfortable on the couch, you tugged the blanket up to your chin, your eyes steadily closing as your exhaustion began to overtake you.

“You and I will be just fine on our own,” you whispered drowsily, patting your bump. “I’ll find a way to make this work. One way or another, we'll both be okay.”

Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he buried his face in his hands. He was tired and annoyed this morning, irritated that his Sunday out hadn’t been too eventful last night. Ever since he’d finished dealing with the Russians, having gotten Petrov into police custody with the help of Mahoney, Hell’s Kitchen had been oddly quiet on the organized crime front. Which was poor timing considering the fact that Matt hadn’t wanted to stay in his apartment where he’d just be reminded how alone he was every night. 

It didn’t help that he’d been sleeping horribly, too. He wasn’t out as late as he had been for the past few weeks, meaning he had the time to sleep, but he clearly lacked the ability lately. His mind just wouldn’t seem to quiet, becoming almost louder than the sounds of the city around him when he tried to. Which was also quite irritating. 

With an annoyed huff, he slid his hands down his face, straightening back up in his chair. He picked up his glasses from his desk and placed them back onto his face. He was tired but he still had work to do. There was a frustrating case he’d been helping Foggy with lately and he figured he could distract himself with that today. He didn’t want to think about anything else.

Though Matt had barely gotten far focusing on the case before he heard Foggy entering the office, closing the door a bit harsher than usual behind himself. Even Karen startled in her office at the unexpected rough slam of the door. Matt’s brows furrowed behind his glasses immediately afterwards when he heard Foggy make his way straight to his office instead of his own. 

Confused, Matt’s head darted up just as Foggy threw his door open. He could practically feel the anger radiating off of Foggy as he stepped into the room, his breathing heavy and his heart beating a little faster than usual. Matt’s eyes narrowed curiously behind his lenses at the tension in Foggy’s body and the increase in his blood pressure.

“Are you fucking serious, Matt?” Foggy snapped.

Matt's brows knitted further together, even more confused at Foggy's behavior this morning. He hadn't seen Foggy all weekend, what could he have done to upset him?

“About what exactly?” he asked carefully.

Foggy stormed further into the room, roughly slamming both of his hands flat on Matt’s desk as he leaned forward. Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, noticing the elevation in Foggy’s heart rate further increasing. Apparently his answer hadn’t been the right one.

“You said you’d talk to her, Matt!” Foggy yelled. “You told me you were going to apologize and make things up to her! You told me that!”

Of course this was about you.

“Fog, I’ve been trying to reach out to her,” he replied calmly, trying to soothe his friend’s anger. “I’ve called her countless times over the past couple of weeks. I’ve left her multiple messages. She keeps ignoring me and not answering my calls. Clearly she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

Foggy scoffed loudly, angrily shaking his head. “There’s nothing you can do about that?” he shot back sarcastically. “Are you serious? Dammit, Matt!”

Matt heard the way Foggy’s hand swiftly rose from the desk, swinging through the air towards himself. Matt’s hand twitched from its place on the desk out of instinct, ready to dart out and grab Foggy’s wrist, but he was stunned when his friend actually landed a hit upside his head. 

“What the hell, Fog?” Matt snapped, scooting back in his desk chair as he ran a hand over the sore spot on his temple. “What’d you hit me for?”

“Honestly, I–I’m surprised you even let me do that,” Foggy said, his anger briefly replaced by surprise. “Figured you would’ve stopped me before I could.”

“Well I didn’t think you were actually going to hit me!” Matt shot back. “Why the hell did you hit me?”

“Because I’m pissed at you, Matt!” Foggy roared, anger quickly returning. “And I’m disappointed in you! You damn well know you could show up at her apartment if she’s not answering your calls. You’re just making excuses.”

“Show up and do what, Fog?” Matt retorted. “Force her to talk to me when she clearly wants nothing to do with me? Hurt both of us even more by forcing that interaction? It’s probably better if she goes on hating me anyway. She’ll move on faster, at least.”

Foggy’s hand flew to the bridge of his nose, pinching it between his fingers. Matt heard the sharp hiss of his frustration between his gritted teeth. Seeing how upset Foggy was had Matt quickly beginning to question just why he was so worked up over this situation. It was between you and him, after all. Why did Foggy want you to apologize and talk this badly?

“Just promise me you’ll go over there and physically talk to her, okay?” Foggy said, his anger barely restrained. “That you’ll offer her a proper apology and talk to her?”

Matt shifted in his seat, his eyes once again narrowing behind his lenses. “Why is this so important to you?” he asked carefully. “It’s been a few weeks now, why are you still so adamant that we talk?”

“Because,” Foggy said, his fingers releasing his nose as his hand lowered to his side, “I know how important it is for the both of you. And I also know how stubborn and idiotic you can be. Someone needs to kick you in the ass before you make a big mistake an even bigger one. So just promise me you’ll talk to her.”

Matt’s tongue slipped out between his lips, nervously wetting them. After a moment he nodded, hearing the way Foggy’s heart rate started to gradually decrease back to its normal pace.

“Yeah, alright,” he assured his friend. “I’ll talk to her.”

“And I mean soon, Matt,” Foggy pressed. “Not in another few weeks.”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding again. “Okay, I’ll go talk to her. I promise.”

[kitkatpancakestack]

Ideas for character arcs that are not the emotional equivalent of oatmeal left on the counter for five days:

Eddie falling out w/ his mother. threatening to cut her off. The scene is blocked exactly like the one when they were sitting in their living room during Eddie Begins but this time Eddie in his new epiphany abt his self worth gets to be like "I want him (Chris) to have a full life knowing he's loved and supported I don't want you to drag him down like you dragged me down with you." OOH LEAVE HER COOKED EDDIE.

Hen gets shot in the middle of nowhere and there are flashbacks to her life growing up as she has to keep herself alive. Bonus points if we get some kind of reference to how she'd always held people at arm's length bc they end up disappointing you (her mom, dad, Eva, etc.) but she realized you can't survive alone that people save people and you just have to find the right people, at the exact moment Karen finds her or something

Chim's father dies and we get Han Brothers bottle episode as they travel to the funeral and further dichotomize their lives especially with chim now being potential father of two. Been asking for this for literal years.

Bobby's been thru enough. I still think he should open a food truck tho.

Buck goes reverse OBX and kills his dad. Lol jk (unless???👀) okay for real tho I wouldn't be mad about like a plotline with Buck and Maddie getting caught up in or investigating some kind of case that parallels their life growing up. and maybe we get some sibling tension (but this time more anger from Maddie about it)

Athena.....girl just quit ur job lmfao.

We said it before and I also think it would pack an even bigger punch with the main kids being older but, an episode all about the firefam kids and how they view life and death and their priorities etc. thru the lense of being in a first responder family where their parents are constantly in danger/have almost died

There are so many actual good ideas out there tim is just looking to the wrong places lol

[deafeningdestinyaster]

Mike Wheeler : Unarmoured Knight (long ass post)

The fact that I find Mike struggles with is his limitations to meet the expectations or mostly the expectations that he has set for himself. As a GA what we can find is that objectively speaking Mike has got everything that a normal child needs. A fully functional 2 parents, siblings, financially well stable and good friends. The thing is that this might be something that he himself might be completely aware of. This might be something that make you feel that your problems are significantly trivial compared to others (in his case he's friends).

But the normal picture doesn't go much far as it has its own issues. Mostly a perpetual need to prove yourself and for Mike to be in the armour of a good friend, a leader and a boyfriend..For first 2 seasons Mike had a more central character and this kinda reflects how we personally finds him.. which is a really good friend, best friend. But from season 3 onwards we are shown find him not meeting his par. Thing is Mike was never actually given a chance to go through his emotions one by one but rather rushed through.

'Will came back' doesn't necessarily just erase the sadness or hopelessness that you have gone through be it an adult or a child of 12. Will's arrival was also accompanied by the disappearance of El whom he has taken as a friend. Be it romantic or not he does find something in her that made their connection special. Like Will, she made him feel needed. He was always 'protective over Will' but I think more than him Mike was the one more dependent over Will. Will is often portrayed as sensitive child but that never stops him being honest or to call over Mike's BS. He is indeed a voice of reason for Mike and Mike knows that himself.

Back to El, rather than a friend he/she wants him to be a boyfriend to her which tbh is rushed in this series. I don't think a relationship that's made when your super-straight friend and sister prompted into when you were just 12 is really a good one. He was kinda pushed into this role based on his own guilt for not looking for her enough in S2 and also societal expectations.

Unlike Will for whom Joyce and Jon are completely supportive to be himself, Mike is set up with a family who just tries to fits in with all that society demands which is kinda evident in Karen's wardrobe over the series unlike Joyce.

So Mike wants to be a good boyfriend. He tries to have quality time with El ignoring his friends, tries to win her over thru presents, gives up on anything that associates to be childish cos he def loves her.. but what he fails to realise is the fact that he was also losing someone who has been consistent throughout his life, someone who has never changed. His best friend.

And Will made this super clear. This was something that he couldn't forgive himself for and which is why, yeah.. But in case of El he doesn't find he has done anything wrong. In fact he was just begrudgingly following her dad's order. Now, he wants to get back with her, why? Cos it makes him crazy? Thing with Mike and El is that they never reciprocate what the other wants. For El it was a physical confirmation of love be it letters or even a kiss. For Mike, he wanted someone who makes him feel needed and to sometimes lean on him emotionally. To make him, be himself. But sadly, they don't trust each other with their fears or inner turmoils. They both tried. But El doesn't need to lean on Mike for his romantic love but rather to show that she's capable on her own. Even during Mike's monologue what pushed El was not his love confession but rather him prompting she must do it cos she can. But there's someone who makes him feel needed, whom he doesn't treat weak or as a mistake.

What I really feel is that Mike didn't realise that his definition of a best friend is something that's quite parallel to a lover. Mike is needed by Will in a way that makes Will accept himself for being who he is and not like a monster. And Mike needs Will cos he's friendship is something that makes him grounded and can't live without..

.

.

.

Most of these are covered by y'all..just my take on it

[karenandhenwilson]

People break. Sometimes just a small part of them. Sometimes it happens very unexpectedly about something that wasn't much of a problem until just a moment ago.

I think that's what we saw with Karen in this episode. And I hate that people just dismiss it as a weak storyline, or an unnecessary storyline, or coming out of the blue and therefore being unbelievable.

Actually, it coming out of the blue is exactly why this is so believable. 

Mara is back home, but that's not been long. And at first, it didn't look as if it would ever happen until Bobby managed to manipulate Gerrard to help them. Those emotions are still raw. And after they got told in court they weren't allowed any contact with Mara going forward, it probably looked as if there wasn't a chance at all to spend Halloween together for a while. How much time went by between the court hearing and the city council meeting? How long weren't they sure they'd see Mara at all for any of the upcoming holidays?

Now everything might be good on that front. Mara is back home. But the doubt and fear is still lingering in Karen. It's also a change for her in her role as a mother again. She wasn't able to fulfill that role for months, no matter how often they spent time with the Hans. It's a situation they all need to settle in again and that takes time.

You can't tell me Karen isn't thinking about the missed memories of these months of separation. And thinking about how near they had been to miss this Halloween. Which I can very well see would lead to thoughts about holidays Hen missed in the past, how Karen had to deal with Denny and his disappointment on her own then. You all remember Christmas of season 3 where that was such a huge deal, too?

They have this huge party with all of them in full costumes days before Halloween. And they have fun and are creating memories (Jee-Yun growling at her Dad!), but it's not the real holiday. And it is not just Mara's first Halloween with them, it's her first holiday with them, period. And they hadn't planned anything for Halloween because everything was still so uncertain not that long ago.

But now it's all different again. Their family is whole again. And they could have a chance to spend it together. If just Hen didn't have a shift. And so Karen voices her concern and her wishes. And Hen sees that and promises to try. Because of course she wants to spend these days with her family in the end.

But then Hen is swayed by not wanting to slight her best friend, by thinking about Chimney's comfort more than her family's comfort. (Remember season 5 when she offered to chase after Maddie with Chimney without a thought of her own family?) So instead of either Chimney or Hen being able to spend the holiday with the family, they both decided to work and leave Karen alone with all of it. Instead of arguing that the Wilsons have gone through hell while Chimney wasn't separated from his daughter for months; instead of suggesting to just toss a coin so at least one of them has a chance to be there with their children they just decide for everyone to lose.

And that's when Karen breaks. When everything suddenly feels too overwhelming, especially the thought of being responsible for three children while they're out Trik-or-Treating. They're all three good kids. But they'll be excited, the streets will be super busy, their excitement won't just vanish when they're back home and she needs to wrangle them to bed. And there was a chance for Karen not to be alone with all of it, but Hen and Chimney prioritized their friendship over their families.

And Karen just feels left alone and disappointed and airs that frustration.

(And on another note: What a bullshit, Hen, to then turn around and put the burden on your teenage son to look after the two girls in support of Karen! You know, you could have also called Bobby again and asked if that offer was still on the table because you hadn't considered that Karen might need help with the children.)